Somewhere in between graduating college in Biology and attempting to have a life. This is my story of my running, working, relationships, school, friends and support. My ups, downs, complete failures, and undenying truths along the way. Oh, did I mention I am recovering from an eating disorder in the midst of it all? Welcome to life in recovery…. it gets a little bumpy.

Tag: Wine

What do you say when your grandmother brings her married boyfriend over for Christmas?

Trick question.

Nothing.

You say nothing.

But you do get very, very drunk.

So, let me paint the scenario for you. My grandmother had invited herself over, and had decided as well that she was going to bring her boyfriend.

My sister and I ran to the store, she wanted needed hummus and I needed wanted wine. We come home, and my dog decided to get in the trash. I carry up the much needed items, which magically also included Ben and Jerry’s Almond milk ice cream too. Then went to clean up the trash.

Then I hear the car.

I gathered myself, regretting that I hadn’t downed the entire bottle of wine the moment I stepped foot in the house. I took a deep breath for composure, and walked into the line of sight.

Grandma tried to get me to hug the strange man, I nicely declined, claiming, “Looks like he has his arms full.”

The moment we were back in the house I dug through the drawers searching for the corkscrew, which seems to only make its appearance when I come home. I poured red wine into a very large coffee mug, trying to be slightly discreet, hoping grandma wouldn’t notice I needed to be intoxicated to deal with her. Walking down the hallway I run into my mom. I offer her the mug of wine. She quickly inhales half of it. My brother walks around the corner and inhales the rest. Here I stand, still sober as a judge.

I quickly inhaled red wine, and could feel it in no time at all, being on an empty stomach.

Grandma doing the fake laugh, I could hear her mumbling and talking shit from the kitchen. I was pouring myself another mug of wine.

Her boyfriend, whom I didn’t care enough for to even learn his name was not only still married, but was 12 years younger than her, and was a condescending prick.

Granted, I don’t even know how to describe what I do for a living without sounding pretentious, but he was just being a smug prick.

In no time at all mom and grandma were picking a fight about all of grandma’s boyfriends. Grandma was talking trash about our family. What’s-His-Fuck has to butt in with his two sense that nobody wanted or asked for.

With that my brother and I snuck off to get some air, as the wine was still flowing through my system.

I hadn’t been that drunk in a long time. I remember sitting on my brother’s floor eating a Larabar. Talking about our trashy grandmother, and her weird creep boyfriend, and having a midlife crisis about what to do with my life.

My brother went to the living room briefly, and came back to his room, informing me they had left.

With mumbled words, I asked if I should go hurry and say goodbye. He said not to worry about it.

The feeling of disbelief and confusion came over me.

In almost the same way as telling someone, “I went home for Christmas and it was chaotic. My grandmother brought her married boyfriend over.” He responded, “I understand.”

I have been in a bit of a rough spot lately. Everything is just quickly going downhill. School is getting the best of me, work is draining me. The other night I was in such a depressed mood, I hadn’t eaten, I took laxatives, hydroxycut, and had a drink. Then two. Three. Four. I’m not really sure. My tolerance is so bad anyway from not eating that I get so woozy. I remember feeling very sick, but from the laxatives mostly, I remember being hunched over the toilet, fingers down throat, as red wine came pouring out of my face as I was thinking, “Oh forgive me. Shit. Forgive me.”

Forgive me. I began to think. I hadn’t done anything. Was I asking for forgiveness because I had eaten earlier that day? Was I asking forgiveness because I knew I had consumed too much alcohol. I wasn’t really sure. I feel like I am in such a dark place right now. I don’t want to die, but this isn’t living, but at least dead you don’t have all of this to worry about.

My boss isn’t going to give me two days off for Fall Break because of the possibility that I might be missing a bit of work in December, going to residential treatment, which is none of her damn business anyway. Which I personally believe is unfair. I didn’t even have to tell her to begin with, then she is going to try and hold that against me when I’m not even sure.

If you read a few of my past posts, I said that while being accident prone, I fell and busted my ass. Well, they think it is a hairline fracture, and if so, I was told not to go running because it could get worse. Um, I run whenever I damn well please. A class average for a biology test was a 40… I began to cry in my next class because I was so upset. He is new, he isn’t curving it, we only have 3 tests the whole semester. During the next class I just lost it, I began to bawl. My professor knows me as the cheery, happy, laughing girl who socializes with everyone. She thought I was laughing, when she leaned over my shoulder she realized I was crying and felt so bad for me. My leg cramps are becoming more frequent, and if they aren’t locking up they are numb and tingly. Last but not least, I just feel very foggy, my vision, my thinking. I’m not sure if I am dehydrated, even though my pee looks fine, or an electrolyte imbalance, or what it is. My best friend asked me last night when the last time I had my period was, I honestly wasn’t sure, and told her I couldn’t remember, even though I have plenty of damn body fat.

I just feel very depressed lately. I hate myself, hate my life. Don’t think I’m going to go to treatment. My boss can get off of her high horse. I’d drop out of school and become a stripper, but I don’t even have the body for that.

For years I have been the good girl. Yes, during highschool I got slightly involved in the party scene, but it was mainly so I could hang out with my friends. I am majoring in science and work all the time, I don’t have time to do sports, let alone try and party.
Well, tonight was different. As you guys read earlier I was getting ready for a date with one of my friends. Someone from work invited me to go to a pub and listen to some music… fair enough to say, I’m fairly tipsy/drunk-ish. Damn I’ve become a light weight…. anyway….yeah, different.
We went to a small little place for dinner, which was good, and I actually ate a little bit. I was impressed with myself. Then we wandered the small, cute streets for a bit until the music began. I got coffee, and we wandered up and down the streets. We made it back to the pub, where the music was beginning and the customer from work was there (the one who invited me). Granted, I am pretty sure that he invited me because he was interested, but I wasn’t going by myself and was a good excuse for a date.
So, here I was, at the bar scene with one guy on a date, who was now talking to the other guy who was interested in me…. what a predicament…. here I was, sitting here, awkwardly, at a bar. Let’s call guy #1 my “date guy” and guy #2 “interested guy”. Well, guy #2 offered to buy me a drink…. I honestly wasn’t sure what the unspoken “rules” on this topic was, but when he offered guy #1 a drink too, I said ok. When guy #1 ran to his car, guy #2 started asking me questions about #1 (to see if we were related/dating/etc). So, guy #2 is older, more mature, bought me a couple drinks. Guy #1 bought me dinner and a couple drinks… damn I sound like a slut, but I swear, this isn’t me!!!
I’m sitting here, while two guys are offering to buy me drinks.
I always pictured this kind of thing in the movies… girl goes to bar, guys buy here drinks, story fairytale bullshit. This was so weird though. I partially enjoyed it, and partially felt guilty. What would other people think if they saw me here? Is it wrong to let guys buy me drinks? And for the love of God, How many CALORIES are in this glass of wine?!?!
So, C, if you are reading this… I kept down something other than fruit and veggies… as long as old fermented grapes count…. (I mean, I ONLY puked twice today).
It was flattering and stressful, all at the same time.
Guy #1 has PTSD from the military
Guy #2 is older and is from out of state
WTF is wrong with me?!?!
I want to be skinny, smaller boobs, happy with myself. Instead, I am drunk, so damn tired, and can’t manage to go one day without puking my guts up… yay me.